They think she is dead
by MissNemi
Summary: They think she is dead. That she is in peace. They are wrong. Dark fic evolving around Kate and Ari. What if she is still alive and did not die? What if she is out there, hoping to be rescued?


**Okay, this was written in the spur of a moment. The idea just popped into my head and I couldn't let it go. Beware of some spelling mistakes, I have tried to erase them, but no one is perfect. Reviews please:)**

They think that she is dead.

They think she died in the explosion, that she vanished in the ocean of flames. That the heat was so intense, that her entire body evaporated, leaving no trace behind. That it was over in a minute and that she felt no pain.

They think she is with peace now.

In a place without fear, pain or loss. Heaven.

_They are wrong..._

He had planned it along time, he told her.

From the moment he first laid eyes on her, he had wanted her. And that he knew that in time, she would want him too. He read it in her eyes, the time she spared his life. He saw that she was his to take. He tells her that she is dependent on him now. If he were to die, so would she. No one else knew she where she was. They didn't even know she was alive. If he decided to leave her, she would slowly rot away, alone. Without food or water she could survive for days, perhaps even a week. Slowly becoming mad of thirst and no one would even know about her sufferings. All this he whispers gently in her ear.

_She hates his voice._

As his fingers slowly caress her tender skin, leaving his marks on her, he tells her that she is beautiful. Perfect. Her body is covered in blue blossoms that in times transforms into purple, green and yellow spots on her body. When he sees them, he wrinkles his nose. Tell her they look like ink patter on a white sheet. That the colour does not become her. Soon he learns to hurt her, without leaving traces behind, and her skin is once again like an unpainted sheet. She has always been pale, but after months of captivity, she now resembles a living corpse. When she tells him this, he laughs at her and tells her she is more like a porcelain doll. Then he bows down and kisses her head before he once again conquers her body.

_She hates his touch._

He wasn't gentle the first time. She fought him like there was no tomorrow. Kicking, screaming, biting and punching every part of him she could reach. Calling him a bastard, time after time, telling him how worthless he was. Swore that she would never surrender to him, that only a pig would take what was not his to begin with. But fighting him every day was tiresome. After months of battles, she finally surrenders, lying still when he comes for her. That was the first time he kissed her.

_She hates his kisses._

After she stops fighting him, every day gets a little better. She's allowed to move around in her room, without being bound. She can use the bathroom and showers without an audience. Though she is no longer shy about her body, he has seen it all, it helps. She is not allowed proper clothes, she has two dresses. Both black, short and too tight on her body. He calls it easy access; she calls it a hooker-dress. Still, it is better than being naked as she were before.

Food and water are better too; he even indulges her and gives her a glass of white wine. Telling her, they are celebrating their new and improved relationship. It is their seven-month anniversary. The wine clouds her senses, making it easier to cope with his touches. But as she lays passive underneath him, letting him use her body and escaping to a better place, he gets annoyed. Slaps her in the face, forces her to look at him. He wants her to be there with him. Be fully aware of him, not escaping. She is not given wine anymore.

He refuses her to call him Ari, orders her to only address him as Haswari. Still, in her mind, she refers of him as Ari, her own personal continuing of their battle. It helps her get up in the mornings, to know that somewhere deep inside her she still has her fire. Little things like that are helping.

On the one-year mark, he brings her a gift. Smiles, as her eyes glitter over her present. A colour book, filled with blank pages and a brand new pencil. Asks her if there is anything else she needs to draw. She asks for a blue crayon, ice blue. Tells him it's her favourite colour, and in the dark cell it has been too long since she has seen any colour. She misses the colour of the sky, she tells him. He laughs at her enthusiasm when she describe the bright blue colour of the sky, and the next time he comes to see her, he brings a bucket of crayons. He brings the rainbow into her hell. Afterwards, she shows him how grateful she is by kissing him first. She can see the surprise in his eyes, but he is quick to hide it. He thinks she wants the blue because of the sky, but she lies to him. It is the colour of _his_ eyes. The eyes that terrify criminals, which could force the truth out of anyone, but always brought comfort to her. Those eyes made her feel safe. Protected. Loved. When he leaves her afterwards she performs her usual cleansing ritual to be safe again. Holding up an imaginary eraser, rubbing it over her body, erasing all the things he does too her. He doesn't know that she does it; he thinks she now has surrendered to him completely.

_He is wrong._

For as long as she has the memory of _him_, his icy blue eyes, she will never completely surrender. She wonders if he visits her grave, if he plants flowers and takes care of her resting place. Somehow, she doubts it, it is not his style, but deep in her heart, she knows he still mourns her. That whenever he walks past her desk, he thinks about her and misses her. Then she wonders who sits at her desk now. Is it a woman or a man? In the beginning, she felt nothing but hate towards the stranger who took her place, but time gave her opportunity to see otherwise. It wasn't that person's fault that he or she had been reassigned to her team. To take her old place in work and with friends. Knowing Abby only too well, she knows that the person is in for a hard time. Her friend has a big heart, but if it is broken, it takes her time to heal it. Loyalty lies deep inside her friend and only time will make her see past her death and welcome the new member. For Tim's sake, she hopes it is a woman; another male agent like Tony would make the testosterone fly sky-high.

It makes her sad to think about her friends and the life that is continuing without her. Still, she doesn't cry. The days of crying are over. That was her one-year present to herself. She promised she would never cry again over the pain he had caused her.

_She hates him._

She fills the book with drawings of people she loves, memorize their faces and make them appear for her, in her own personal heaven. A place to escape. Ducky, Abby, Tony, Tim, Palmer, her three brothers, her older sister, her parents, aunts and uncles. The last page she saves for him. Carefully, with a steady hand, she draws his gentle eyes. The wrinkle between them, his nose, his silvery hair and the twinkle in his eye. She makes him smile, the way he often would do after they solved a case and everything turned out fine. As she draws the fine lines under his eyes, it is almost as she can smell him. The cosy blend of coffee and sawdust. Ari does not drink coffee, nor does he permit her to do. He gulps down cup after cup with a disgusting green substance that he calls tea. She tried it once, after freezing the entire night because she refused to let him warm her with his body, and she would never taste it again. That was not tea; more like hot water added sweat and piss. Why he continues to drink it she hardly know, but she takes comfort in knowing how horrid it truly tastes. Seeing him gulp down the disgusting substance is strangely satisfying.

When he finds her drawings, he is angry. Rips the picture of Gibbs into pieces and shouts at her. As the portrait she spent countless hours drawing, is ripped apart in front of her, she doesn't shed a tear. Only looks at him numbly and draws further back into her shell. Before he realizes what he has done, she is long gone. No matter how hard he tries, he can get her to open again, and far away, she can see him try. In the end he gives her a new book and tells her to draw whatever she likes in it. He does not care. As her fingers once more clench around the blue crayon she finally looks him in the eyes. She spots relief in his eyes as he once again can see the life in her. That she isn't completely gone. Not yet.

Still, she doesn't draw him again. Instead, she fills the pages with pictures of the sky, the ocean, everything with blue in it. Light blue, dark blue, marine blue and ice blue. She tries to draw her friends again, but her attempts keep failing. Their faces are slipping away and the more she tries to grasp her memories, the further away they float. The only thing still clear in her mind is his eyes. The blue piercing eyes that still brings her comfort and peace. That helps her to sleep at night.

When he tells her it has been a year and a half she doesn't believe it. Could it really have been so long since she had seen anything else than the inside of her cell? A year and half since she last spoke with another person than Ari? And still no one suspects anything? He brings her a resent picture of her team. They all look happy. The new member is a woman. She looks exotic, exciting and sexy. The way she moves her body indicates she is a very sensual woman. Her eyes startles her. They look like his, but as she looks depper she finds them kinder, more gentle. Not at all like is thinner, but he doesn't look much healthier. She finds herself missing his plumpness and jovial whereabouts. His clothes also seem more expensive, not like the cheap shirts he used to wear. She misses him and wish she could be there for him and see him transform. Tony hasn't changed much, and neither has Ducky. Both looking content with the situation, professionals at the job, but with a twinkle in their eyes. Still she can spot a certain glow around Tony. _He is in love._ When he finally hands her a picture of the person she misses the most she is careful not to reveal her true emotions, but she can't keep her hand from trembling. Taking him all in she notices every change in him. He looks older; the previous fine lines have grown deeper. There are circles under his eyes, indicating that he is still working hard. Silent she watches him, taking it all in, memorizing his face once more. Taking care not to forget him again. Afterwards he takes the pictures away. Tells her that it was the last time she would ever see them again and she should now forget about them. They are no one; they have moved on, they don't care anymore. He is all she has left in this world and she needs to accept it.

_She still hates him…_

One day when he comes into her cell, she sees that something is different. He seems,...nervous, almost... It is strange to him see him like this, but when her orders her to close her eyes and keep her hands behind her back she does it. Many attempts in fighting back before, have taught her better than to test him. As the needle sink deep into her arm, she feels the world slip away. Wondering she looks him in the eyes as she slowly drifts away from him. Gently he puts her on her back, stroking her hair and whisper comforting words in her ear. The last thing she sees is his large, dark eyes looking worried at her. The last thing she hears is his tender words. _"I love you. "_The last thing she remembers is wondering; is the end?

**Okay, tell me what you think. It is a one-shot, but I have some ideas on how it should play out. The end is open to interpretation.**


End file.
